The Queen's Necklace - Alexandre Dumas père (electric book reader TXT) 📗

he followed you from Taverney to Paris, you followed him from Paris to Trianon."

"Yes, that is true, but that is ten years ago; and I wished to know what hag passed since the time I ran away, and since he disappeared. When Gilbert loved Mademoiselle de----"

"Do not pronounce names aloud," said he.

"Well, then, when he loved her so much that each tree at Trianon was witness to his love----"

"You loved him no more."

"On the contrary, I loved him more than ever; and this love was my ruin. I am beautiful, proud, and, when I please, insolent; and would lay my head on the scaffold rather than confess myself despised."

"You have a heart, Nicole?"

"I had then," she said, sighing.

"This conversation makes you sad."

"No, it does me good to speak of my youth. But tell me why Gilbert fled from Trianon."

"Do you wish me to confirm a suspicion, or to tell you something you do not know."

"Something I do not know."

"Well, I cannot tell you this. Have you not heard that he is dead?"

"Yes, I have, but----"

"Well, he is dead."

"Dead!" said Nicole, with an air of doubt. Then, with a sudden start, "Grant me one favor!" she cried.

"As many as you like."

"I saw you two hours ago; for it was you, was it not?"

"Certainly."

"You did not, then, try to disguise yourself?"

"Not at all."

"But I was stupid; I saw you, but I did not observe you."

"I do not understand."

"Do you know what I want?"

"No."

"Take off your mask."

"Here! impossible!"

"Oh, you cannot fear other people seeing you. Here, behind this column, you will be quite hidden. You fear that I should recognize you."

"You!"

"And that I should cry, 'It is you--it is Gilbert!'"

"What folly!"

"Take off your mask."

"Yes, on one condition--that you will take off yours, if I ask it."

"Agreed." The unknown took off his immediately.

Oliva looked earnestly at him, then sighed, and said:

"Alas! no, it is not Gilbert."

"And who am I?"

"Oh, I do not care, as you are not he."

"And if it had been Gilbert?" said he, as he put on his mask again.

"Ah! if it had been," cried she passionately, "and he had said to me, 'Nicole, do you remember Taverney Maison-Rouge?' then there would have been no longer a Beausire in the world for me."

"But I have told you, my dear child, that Gilbert is dead."

"Ah! perhaps, then, it is for the best," said Oliva, with a sigh.

"Yes; he would never have loved you, beautiful as you are."

"Do you, then, think he despised me?"

"No; he rather feared you."

"That is possible."

"Then you think it better he is dead?"

"Do not repeat my words; in your mouth they wound me."

"But it is better for Mademoiselle Oliva. You observe, I abandon Nicole, and speak to Oliva. You have before you a future, happy, rich, and brilliant."

"Do you think so?"

"Yes, if you make up your mind to do anything to arrive at this end."

"I promise you."

"But you must give up sighing, as you were doing just now."

"Very well. I sighed for Gilbert, and as he is dead, and there are not two Gilberts in the world, I shall sigh no more. But enough of him."

"Yes; we will speak of yourself. Why did you run away with Beausire?"

"Because I wished to quit Trianon, and I was obliged to go with some one; I could no longer remain a 'pis aller,' rejected by Gilbert."

"You have, then, been faithful for ten years through pride? You have paid dearly for it."

Oliva laughed.

"Oh, I know what you are laughing at. To hear a man, who pretends to know everything, accuse you of having been ten years faithful, when you think you have not rendered yourself worthy of such a ridiculous reproach. However, I know all about you. I know that you went to Portugal with Beausire, where you remained two years; that you then left him, and went to the Indies with the captain of a frigate, who hid you in his cabin, and who left you at Chandernagor when he returned to Europe. I know that you had two millions of rupees to spend in the house of a nabob who kept you shut up; that you escaped through the window on the shoulders of a slave. Then, rich--for you had carried away two beautiful pearl bracelets, two diamonds, and three large rubies--you came back to France. When landing at Brest, your evil genius made you encounter Beausire on the quay, who recognized you immediately, bronzed and altered as you were, while you almost fainted at the sight of him."

"Oh, mon Dieu!" cried Oliva, "who are you, then, who know all this?"

"I know, further, that Beausire carried you off again, persuaded you that he loved you, sold your jewels, and reduced you to poverty. Still, you say you love him, and, as love is the root of all happiness, of course you ought to be happy."

Oliva hung her head, and covered her eyes with her hands, but two large tears might be seen forcing their way through her fingers--liquid pearls, more precious, though not so marketable, as those Beausire had sold.

"And this woman," at last she said, "whom you describe as so proud and so happy, you have bought to-day for fifty louis."

"I am aware it is too little, mademoiselle."

"No, sir; on the contrary, I am surprised that a woman like me should be worth so much."

"You are worth more than that, as I will show you; but just now I want all your attention."

"Then I will be silent."

"No; talk, on the contrary, of anything, it does not matter what, so that we seem occupied."

"You are very odd."

"Take hold of my arm, and let us walk."

They walked on among the various groups. In a minute or two, Oliva asked a question.

"Talk as much as you like, only do not ask questions at present," said her companion, "for I cannot answer now; only, as you speak, disguise your voice, hold your head up, and scratch your neck with your fan."

She obeyed.

In a minute, they passed a highly perfumed group, in the center of which a very elegant-looking man was talking fast to three companions, who were listening respectfully.

"Who is that young man in that beautiful gray domino?" asked Oliva.

"M. le Comte d'Artois; but pray do not speak just now!" At this moment two other dominoes passed them, and stood in a place near, which was rather free from people.

"Lean on this pillar, countess," said one of them in a low voice, but which was overheard by the blue domino, who started at its sound.

Then a yellow domino, passing through the crowd, came up to the blue one, and said, "It is he."

"Very good," replied the other, and the yellow domino vanished.

"Now, then," said Oliva's companion, turning to her, "we will begin to enjoy ourselves a little."

"I hope so, for you have twice made me sad: first by taking away Beausire, and then by speaking of Gilbert."

"I will be both Gilbert and Beausire to you," said the unknown.

"Oh!" sighed Oliva.

"I do not ask you to love me, remember; I only ask you to accept the life I offer you--that is, the accomplishment of all your desires, provided occasionally you give way to mine. Just now I have one."

"What?"

"That black domino that you see there is a German of my acquaintance, who refused to come to the ball with me, saying he was not well; and now he is here, and a lady with him."

"Who is she?"

"I do not know. We will approach them; I will pretend that you are a German, and you must not speak, for fear of being found out. Now, pretend to point him out to me with the end of your fan."

"Like that?"

"Yes; very well. Now whisper to me."

Oliva obeyed with a docility which charmed her companion.

The black domino, who had his back turned to them, did not see all this; but his companion did. "Take care, monseigneur," said she; "there are two masks watching us."

"Oh, do not be afraid, countess; they cannot recognize us. Do not mind them; but let me assure you that never form was so enchanting as yours, never eyes so brilliant, never----"

"Hush! the spies approach."

"Spies!" said the cardinal, uneasily. "Disguise your voice if they make you speak, and I will do the same."

Oliva and her blue domino indeed approached; he came up to the cardinal, and said, "Mask----"

"What do you want?" said the cardinal, in a voice as unlike his natural one as he could make it.

"The lady who accompanies me desires me to ask you some questions."

"Ask," said M. de Rohan.

"Are they very indiscreet?" said Madame de la Motte.

"So indiscreet that you shall not hear them;" and he pretended to whisper to Oliva, who made a sign in answer. Then, in irreproachable German, he said to the cardinal, "Monseigneur, are you in love with the lady who accompanies you?"

The cardinal trembled.

"Did you say monseigneur?" he asked.

"Yes."

"You deceive yourself; I am not the person you think."

"Oh, M. le Cardinal, do not deny it; it is useless. If even I did not know you, the lady who accompanies me assures me she knows you perfectly." And he again whispered to Oliva, "Make a sign for 'yes.' Do so each time I press your arm."

She did so.

"You astonish me!" said the cardinal. "Who is this lady?"

"Oh, monseigneur, I thought you would have known; she soon knew you. It is true that jealousy----"

"Madame is jealous of me!" cried the cardinal.

"We do not say that," replied the unknown, rather haughtily.

"What are you talking about?" asked Madame de la Motte, who did not like this conversation in German.

"Oh, nothing, nothing!"

"Madame," said the cardinal to Oliva, "one word from you, and I promise to recognize you instantly."

Oliva, who saw him speaking to her, but did not understand a word, whispered to her companion.

All this mystery piqued the cardinal.

"One single German word," he said, "could not much compromise madame."

The blue domino again pretended to take her orders, and then said: "M. le Cardinal, these are the words of madame, 'He whose thoughts are not ever on the alert, he whose imagination does not perpetually suggest the presence of the loved one, does not love, however much he may pretend it.'"

The cardinal appeared struck with these words; all his attitude expressed surprise, respect and devotion.

"It is impossible!" he murmured in French.

"What is impossible?" asked Madame de la Motte, who seized eagerly on these few words she could understand.

"Nothing, madame, nothing!"

"Really, cardinal, you are making me play but a sorry part," said she, withdrawing her arm angrily.

He did not even seem to notice it, so great was his preoccupation